A Guard for the Titan (TITANS, #3)

by Lazu, Sotia

  “No.” His bellow was so loud, it shook the room. A whirlwind began forming by the coffee table, and the curtains were sucked toward its center, their dance mocking him. Atlas blinked between Iphigenia and the door. She couldn’t leave. The world needed her, and so did he.

  His powers pulled his body to all directions, urging him to unfold to his true size, but he didn’t want to intimidate her. Just make her see reason.

  Screw reason.

  Was that his thought or hers?

  Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. This was definitely hers. Though there was no hint of fear in the squaring of her shoulders or the clenching of her jaw, she was afraid of him. What kind of monster was he, to scare the woman he loved?

  Loved her. He loved her. He wasn’t falling for her. It wasn’t a process; it was a done deal.

  He matched her posture, but instead of fisting his hands, he dropped his arms loosely at his sides. “I swear to you by the sky and the stars I can bring down around us that you’re not a means for me to have Pleione back,” he said. “You are the one I desire. The one I wish to bond with. And I won’t let you out of this room until you believe me.” He ordered the wind to close the door, which slammed shut behind him.

  When Iphigenia glanced at the window over her shoulder, he had it swing into its frame so hard, the casing rattled.

  The whirlwind grew, sucking in the hem of her dress and exposing her legs. He’d be turned on if it weren’t for the dismay in her expression. He had to stop this.

  Enough.

  But the wind didn’t die down. It whistled and blew and ripped the sheets from the bed. Iphigenia’s breathing turned labored. He was sucking the air from the room. He was doing this.

  When he was trapped in stone, he could will his conscious mind into perfect stillness. He tried it now. It wasn’t as easy, when Iphigenia seemed about to crumble in front of him and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and carry her to safety, but there was no safety to be had when he wasn’t in control.

  “Stop it.” Her hair whipped around her face, hiding her mouth, but her cry reached him easily.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of the night sky. Of the vast darkness. Of the pale curves of Iphigenia’s body. He kept his mind away from what he wanted to do to her—what he’d already done with her—and on the moments between passion, when he just held her, their bodies curved around each other like their souls should be.

  The wind died down, and he ran to her side as her legs gave way. Her eyes were closed when he tucked her against his chest and carried her to the bed. She’d listen to him. She had to. Or everything would be lost.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Atlas’ heart thundered against her ear, as he cradled her and whispered soothing words. He had her. He’d never hurt her.

  And wasn’t it ironic he was promising that seconds after he’d stolen the breath from her lungs?

  As ironic as it was for her to feel safe in his arms, physically, while her soul cried for him not to break her heart.

  “You’re my everything,” he whispered in her ear. “Pleione is in the past.”

  But how could that be, when Pleione was the original owner of the soul inhabiting Iphigenia’s body? When that might be the only reason Atlas was with Iphigenia in the first place?

  He’d sworn that wasn’t the case—could he bring down the stars, like he said?—but should she believe him? What was the alternative? Sit back and watch the world burn? Moments ago, she’d felt ready to, but when she was in his arms, trapped and protected at the same time, bonding did seem like the better idea. She could stop thinking, and give in. Atlas would make love to her again, their souls would bond, and creation would be safe.

  God, for a soul she hadn’t realized she had, it had quite the itinerary.

  Should she open her eyes?

  No. Two more minutes. Opening them would mean she was ready to either talk things out or storm out of here despite his efforts to stop her, and she first had to decide what she wanted.

  Armageddon or not, the possibility of not seeing Atlas again threatened to sour the meal in her gut, so she focused on the new info instead. She had a used soul. The soul of someone who’d loved him. Did it come with its own memories and feelings? Would getting closer to Atlas unlock them? Was her attraction to him an intense case of déjà vu?

  She chanced a glance through lowered eyelashes. He was watching her intently, his thumb drawing circles on her shoulder. If she confessed to being aware, would she have to leave his warmth?

  No. No sappy thoughts. She was upset. He knew something as big as the fact that she practically had no say in loving him, and he kept it from her.

  “I love you. Honest to Chaos, I do. Pleione has nothing to do with it,” he said.

  Okay, she was done with this crap. She opened her eyes and rolled off him, catching herself before she toppled to the floor. He patted the mattress, for her to sit beside him, but she stood her ground.

  “I practically have a beacon with her name on it up my ass, calling to you, and you think she has nothing to do with you having the hots for me? I’m a strong, independent woman. I make my own destiny.” Though she had no trouble using clichés, apparently. “I’ve fought for my job, for the respect of my peers, for my family’s acceptance. And then you come along, and you screw everything up. Because we’re meant to be. And who cares about what I want, right? I have a destiny to fulfill. With my pussy.”

  Was he biting back a grin? Ugh, she could slap him.

  Or kiss him.

  But mostly slap him.

  “Why aren’t you saying anything?” she screeched. Was she being irrational? Maybe. But she needed him to put this all into order, force it to make sense, so she could choose it. Choose him.

  His voice was low when he spoke, his gaze trained to her hair, instead of her face. “You know, when I was in the museum, the highlight of my day was the moment you passed by, when you were doing your rounds. I’d listen for the clacking of your sensible shoes on the corridor outside, and wait for a glimpse of your smile. Until this week, you were a gorgeous nymph I couldn’t take my eyes off. When you started talking to me, though, telling me about your family and your dreams and your struggles with cooking”—he chuckled—“it was impossible not to fall for you.”

  Atlas looked into her eyes, molten gold swirling in his irises. “And I have, Chaos help me. I’m helplessly in love with you. The thought of being separated from you threatens to unravel me faster than Zeus’ curse. I don’t want this bond so Pleione can come back, if that were even possible. I want to mate with you. Bond with you for life. One day maybe have stubborn, curly-haired children with you. I want to tell your parents their daughter is incredible and fierce, and I want to find your ex and get your dog back for you. So no, this has nothing to do with Pleione. I need you, not because I’ll unravel unless we bond, but because without you, I won’t care if I end creation.”

  Fuck. A few words, what might be the world’s most romantic-slash-threatening declaration, and all her anger and frustration evaporated in a pink cloud of hearts and roses. How the fuck did he manage that? “What you’re saying is you’re in love with me?” she asked, stalling for time, to regain control of the thoughts spinning her into a knot.

  He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, like he wanted to see inside her head. Like he was doubting her intelligence. “Yes. That is what I’m saying,” he said in a slow, measured tone.

  “I see.”

  Atlas raised his face to the ceiling and let out a tortured sigh. “That’s what every male dreams of hearing from his soulmate when he declares his love.” He met her gaze again. “Look again.”

  Iphigenia wanted to hold on to her anger from before or crack a joke or walk away—anything to diffuse the intensity of this moment—but the mental image of a woman blossomed in her mind, until it overtook her thoughts.

  Pleione again? No. Not her. But who? Iphigenia should know the woman, but she couldn’t place the gorgeous,
sleek ringlets of her dark hair or the glow of her smooth skin. Those eyes, though...

  “Your eyes,” Atlas said. “You are on my mind. Always.”

  Now he’d said that, she saw the resemblance, but the woman was... livelier. More ethereal, maybe? More elegant, for sure. She was... more.

  “This is how you see me?” The words came out breathy.

  Atlas nodded and opened himself to her further, allowing her to feel what he felt. Everything he felt. His love and his need and his hope and his fear poured inside her, making her head light and sending butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He loved her with a ferocity that took her breath away. Her heart raced, and her palms were sweaty, and her chest ached like it had grown two sizes, to fit the swell of emotion inside.

  Her emotion, not his—the realization hit her like a punch to the solar plexus.

  She was in love with Atlas. There was no denying it.

  Saying no to the bonding really wasn’t an option, but not because of the magnitude of what was at stake. She couldn’t refuse Atlas, because no man could possibly take his place in her heart or between the sheets after their short time together. He’d exposed her to a whole new reality that was terrifying and stimulating, and not even a little bit boring. Her life had changed irrevocably, and to pretend she could go back to the existence she had before she met him would be to fool herself.

  Plus, she’d be saving everyone on the frigging planet. She was practically a superhero. She laughed. Her dad would totally freak out over that. Though he might be happy she finally found a guy to make an honest woman out of her.

  “Iphigenia? Are you still with me? Did the oxygen deprivation damage you? It didn’t last more than a couple seconds, but you never know.” He frowned, but his eyes twinkled, and that secret smile danced on his lips.

  She was with him, all right. And now that she’d made up her mind, there was no reason to delay things. “The world depends on my putting out again, huh?” She ghosted a finger down her neck and along her neckline, and a shiver ran down her spine at the growl that bubbled in Atlas’ chest to vibrate through her skin. She gave him a lopsided grin. “Then I guess I’ll do it. Sacrifice myself for the greater good...” She let out an exaggerated huff.

  “The bonding won’t work if you don’t pledge your love to me.” Atlas watched her, his body tense, no doubt ready to block her way again if she tried for another escape.

  She was here to stay, though. His to keep. “I know.”

  His gaze caressed the path her hands drew, as she skated them along her thighs, pulling the dress up. He stood and swooped in for a kiss.

  Iphigenia yielded to his claim over her mouth. God, he was magical when it came to kissing. And to anything else that had his body making contact with hers. Or his mind...

  He closed one large palm over her ass, and she grasped his shoulders, clinging to him. She sucked on his tongue and locked a foot around his ankle, then pushed him back to land on the bed with an oof.

  He arched one golden eyebrow. “So...?”

  Did she have to spell it out for him? “Yes,” she said with a smirk and straddled him. She’d landed herself a Titan, and now she was gonna ride one.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She’d said yes to the bonding. To him.

  Atlas had no doubt she lusted after him, and taking the step to stabilize him was the rational thing to do, but until she said the word, he still feared she wouldn’t return his feelings. That she’d reject him. His worry had morphed to relief when her frown melted into that cheeky grin, and then to an overwhelming sense of pure happiness when she began undressing herself.

  Now that she was in his lap, naked, both hands inside his open fly, Atlas was engulfed by feelings he couldn’t put into words. How could he define the air and fire and sun swirling behind his ribs?

  Iphigenia pulled him out of his jeans and waggled her eyebrows. He wanted to roar with laughter, and yet, this was the most serious thing to ever happen to him. Her touch burned him, but not as much as her bare, wet pussy did when she rose to her knees and positioned him at her entrance.

  He ached to bathe himself in the intoxicating aroma of exotic fruits and flowers that wafted from her hair, but most of all, he wanted to slam her down on him. Impale her on his shaft. Bottom out in her and take his pleasure. Take her heart. Make her his.

  He grasped her hips, but when he brushed her thoughts, he sensed her need to set the pace this one time, so he allowed her the illusion of having the upper hand. He let her slowly sink down around his cock, taking him in a centimeter at a time, squeezing and scorching and making him throb with the need for release, until she sat on him with a sigh of contentment.

  “I could stay here forever,” she murmured. “Feels like—”

  “Home.” Because it did. She did. She was his home—his center. And once they’d claimed each other, she’d be the one to ground him. Keep him from unraveling. Though when she rose and fell on him again, inner muscles clenching tight around him, he almost lost control.

  Iphigenia withdrew until only the tip of his erection remained inside her, and then slowly took him in once more. And again. And again. She picked up speed with every down stroke, twisting her hips to rub her clitoris against his pelvis. Her skin was pale where their bodies came together, compared to his darker hue, and her thighs trembled with the strain of her movements.

  Atlas roamed her body with his hands. He wanted to feel all of her. He palmed her breasts. Kneaded them and caressed the soft curve of her belly. Grazed his way up her creamy thighs. Skated his palms down her front and traced the white sliver of raised skin across her right side with his thumb. The scar was old, but he hated the thought of anything causing her pain, even years before he ever met her. She’d never be harmed again. He’d be here for her, always.

  He looked up at her, his gorgeous amazon. Her face was pinched in concentration, dark brows drawn together, her breathing slow and deliberate.

  “I love you,” he thought at her, and her face relaxed.

  “I love you,” she thought back at him.

  Atlas could no longer hold back. He fisted both hands in her curls, to bring her down to him and crash his mouth to hers, before rolling them so he was on top. “I’ll love you till the end of time,” he whispered and bit her bottom lip.

  He nibbled along her jaw line, tasting the saltiness of her sweat, and then dove between her breasts, to lave the valley there with his tongue. He cupped a perfect handful and squeezed. It blushed a beautiful red that matched her flushed cheeks, but the color faded too soon. He wanted to emblazon his claim on the unblemished skin, so he closed his teeth on the yielding flesh and sucked.

  Iphigenia bucked her hips beneath him and scratched furrows down his back. She was a lioness, feral and passionate and his. “Yes,” she screamed in his head. She was wide open to him now. He could sense her fear of the future and her determination to face the unknown by his side. And he could see the golden glow of her love, binding her soul to his.

  When he let go of her breast, it bore two rapidly darkening crescent-shaped marks surrounded by a purple bruise. His mark.

  His orgasm closing in, Atlas thrust harder, pounding her into the mattress, which moved aside to reveal the stone beneath it. His shins chipped the paint off, but he felt no pain. There was only pleasure. Pleasure and love. “Say you’re mine,” he ordered Iphigenia mentally, and this time, there was nothing to stop her from answering.

  “Yours. My heart, my soul, my body—yours forever.”

  He was more alive than ever. He was complete. Iphigenia was in him like he was in her. Through their mental link, he made her feel his fingers tweaking her hidden pearl and rubbing circles over it. Her panted breathing grew erratic, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Pressing her heels in the backs of his thighs, she ground her mound against him, until her body shook with the force of her release.

  A few quick, hard thrusts, and his balls tightened, his cock jerking as he shot his load deep inside her
. He was tempted to make his seed potent, to start in on the curly-haired children immediately, but his soulmate wouldn’t appreciate the initiative. He rolled to the side, holding her close, and laid a chaste kiss on her temple. “I love you.”

  “I don’t think it took,” she croaked against his chest. “We may have to do it again.”

  He laughed. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “But not yet. I’m oozing Titan.” She pulled back and sat up, to mock-glower. “How many showers can I take in one day, before I start peeling?”

  Atlas pretended to consider it. “You should be good with one more. I’ll join you, to make sure.” He started to get up, but she climbed from the bed and pushed him back down.

  “Nah uh. You stay here. I can’t trust you to behave yourself, and I need to clean up and eat.” Her stomach growled, stressing her point. “Any chance Circe could turn into Marigo long enough to whip us something up?”

  “I’ll do you one better. I’ll take you out for lunch.” He looked toward the window. The sky outside was graying. “Dinner?”

  Iphigenia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, which did delightful things to her naked breasts. “Do you even have any money?”

  Huh. Good question. His gaze fell on the brown envelope Eros had given him. It was on the floor by the coffee table. He twirled his fingers, and the air slapped the envelope on Iphigenia’s ass, earning him an indignant squeal, before delivering it to his waiting hand. “Eros said this has everything I need. Except you.” He winked at her. “Go shower. I’ll be here.” He watched her ass wiggle as she walked gingerly out of the room, his spendings glistening down her thighs.

  Wishing was watching her lather her body with foam and maybe helping her massage it properly into all the right places, he sat up and emptied the contents of the envelope on the bed beside him.

  One... two... three... Huh. Five credit cards, a handful of takeout menus—for Athens, so useless here—a small black book that read A Titan’s Guide to the Modern World, and a slim cell phone. Iphigenia could have this. She didn’t have hers when he retrieved her from Rhea’s hideout, and she should contact her family at some point. Tell them she was... getting married? He chuckled. Three days ago, he thought he was doomed for eternity, and now he had it all.